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“CON-SARNIT BITTY, where’d you get off to now?” Jedidiah Farley grumbled as he followed the tracks of his usually docile donkey along a wash.
“Ain’t like you to go a wandering off like this.” The old timer had gotten so used to the faithful pack animal trailing along behind him that he’d given up on lead lines long ago.
Stopping in the middle of a rocky rise to catch his breath, he ran a hand down his long white beard, pulled up his trousers and gazed around him.
Something was not right, and he could feel it in his bones. This section of Nevada was prime country for hiding outlaws and scaly-wags of all sorts. What if one of them had up and stole his little Bitty?
No, there wasn’t any point in thinking such things. He’d just see where the little jenny had taken herself and then head back toward his claim.
Grinning Jedidiah, or Jed as he was known, scratched a back pocket and trudged further up the hill. It was still early, and the morning sun hadn’t warmed the rocks up yet, so a little exertion wouldn’t do him any harm.
Dropping down into a bowl, old Jed stopped short examining the scene before him then rubbed his eyes to be sure they weren’t playing tricks on him.
“Well I’ll be,” he mumbled. “Bitty what’d you find yourself?”
Jed stumped his way toward the little donkey that carried all his worldly possessions where she stood hip to nose with a long legged brown mule.
“You find yourself a new friend?” he laughed, stepping around the donkey only to stop short. “Jumpin’ Jehosephat!” he exclaimed kneeling next to the body on the ground.
“You dead young fellar?” Jed asked, leaning over to see if the man was still breathing. “If you’re dead I ain’t burryin’ ya.” He continued, “I’m too old ta be diggin’ graves for young fella’s who ain’t got the sense not to show themselves on a ridge.”
Gently he patted the young man’s face and the boy groaned.
“Well he ain’t dead Bitty,” Jed continued chattering to his donkey. “Looks like someone took a pot shot at ‘em though.”
Scratching his beard, old Jed pondered what to do. The boy wasn’t dead, but he would be if something wasn’t done. There was no telling how long he’d been laying out here in the elements.
“I guess we’ll take him along with us and see what’s what. If he’s a bad’un, I’ll knock him over the head and take him to the law. Mebe’ get me a re-ward.”
Chuckling, Jed pushed Bitty closer to the lanky mule then dragged the leggy fellow with brown hair up over his shorter donkey’s back and then on to the mule.
“Don’t look at me like that Bitty. I’m an old man. I can’t just lift the fella like a sack ‘o grain ya know.” He chuckled at how he’d used the smaller animal like a step ladder.
Shaking his head he pulled a hand full of grain from a pocket and fed it to the donkey, then handed over a little to the mule.
“Well let’s get a move on,” he said tugging on the mules lines. “I ain’t waitin’ around here to see if the ones what shot this galloot’s still around. Only another hour and we’ll be at my place any who.”
***
“TITUS’ HEAD POUNDED, and his mouth felt like it was full of sand. The gentle plod of hooves drifted to him on a warm breeze, and he wondered if he was still in the saddle.
Occasional snippets of conversation made him try to dig his way from the darkness that overwhelmed him, but inevitably the deep black of unconsciousness always won.
He could tell he was moving; somewhere in his brain something registered a steady plod, but he couldn’t rouse himself from the stupor that overwhelmed him.
As the beast beneath him came to a stop, he rolled his head, his eyes flicking open enough to see a grizzled old man with a white beard reaching up for him.
“Well, I guess you might live yet.” The words felt muted like they were coming from under water. “Reckon Bitty did good ta find you.”
Titus felt himself being pulled down from a high perch and landed none too gently on the cool earth, but then the darkness claimed him once more.
Something was cooking. It was the next thought that he had. There was food, and the sound of metal on metal.
Titus pried open eyes that felt like they’d been glued shut then squinted at the flickering light of a fire.
An old man with a long white beard squatted by the flames, a frying pan in one hand and a long ladle in the other.
He pushed himself up on an elbow, closing his eyes once more as the world tilted and spun around him turning his stomach over in the process.
A soft snort behind him made him open his eyes again as he looked into the soft muzzle of a nearly white donkey.
“I guess you’re awake young fella,” the old timer said, his voice loud and harsh in the stillness of the night. “Bitty, you git and leave that fella alone now.” He finished, waving at the animal.
“Where, where am I?” Titus asked trying to remember what had happened to him.
“You’re with old Jed is where you is,” the old man chortled, “and still on this earth ta boot.”
Titus touched a finger to his head feeling a bandage wrapped tight around his crown.
“What happened?”
“You tell me,” The old time said. “Me and Bitty found you along the trail. Well, she found you, and I had to find her anyway.”
Pushing himself up into a seated position Titus groaned.
“Now you take it easy young fella, you had a nasty knock on the head. Looks ta me like someone shot ya.”
“Why would someone shoot me?”
“I don’t know I ain’t got a clue who ya is or nothin’. Me I’m just being a good Samaritan like the Good Book says.”
Placing the pan on a rock by the fire the old man rose and walked over to where Titus sat holding his head.
“I don’t know if you can hold it down or not, but let’s get you up to the fire, and see if some vittles will do you any good.”
He reached down hauling Titus to his feet and waiting as the boy swayed like a sapling in a storm then hobbled over to the fire.
“Thank you.” Titus said.
“Jed, just call me Jed, and you’re welcome.” Jed said helping the young man to take a seat.
“What should I call you?”
Titus ran a hand over the bandage on his head feeling the heavy throb with every heart beat, the steady rhythm thrumming in his blank brain.
“What’d ya say your name was boy?” Jed prompted after a full minute.
“I,” Titus gazed around him, “I don’t know.”
